The faceless mob glided into the reception hall, a low murmur of voices trailing along. It seemed like hundreds of them, robes swishing.
I stood in the shadows of the corner. If you didn’t move - or only moved slowly - they wouldn’t notice you. Usually.
They had no faces and no mouths, but spoke clearly, if quietly. Right now, they had one thing on their mind. And they were very much of one mind. The elevator. The curtain was pulled open slightly and the gate was ajar.
“Ooh, this one’s nice.” A soft chorus of agreement as the faceless packed themselves inside the elevator. A single incandescent bulb dimly illuminated the mass of spirits.
You wouldn’t think so many could fit inside. But that’s what these elevators were designed for.
Now the Prelate stepped deliberately from behind the curtain. That was my signal to move, too. I walked with measured steps toward the gate. The rhythm and timing was critical to avoid drawing their attention. We reached the gate simultaneously, he swiftly sliding the gate closed while I snapped the lock in place.
There was a small *crack* and a pinging echo. Uh-oh.
“Sh*t, it’s broken,” I breathed. My fault. He said nothing but produced a small sliver of crystal.
By now, the faceless had begun to notice, but they hadn’t NOTICED yet. I gripped the lock, holding it tightly in place. The Prelate produced a small sliver of blue crystal and fused it into the lock in one motion. The crystal flashed.
He swept the curtain closed. “That should hold them for the next two or three cycles.”
One down, 431 to go.